What do Scientology, SoulCycle, and social media gurus have in common? More than you might think. In Cultish—the 28th annual Writer as Witness selection for first-year Eagles—Amanda Montell argues that language is the ultimate form of power. In ways both altruistic and sinister, we encounter—and are influenced by—cultish language every single day, from Peloton leaderboards to our Instagram feeds.
Q. What are the roots of the word “cult”?
A. It has had a winding etymological history. The first appearance of the word in the seventeenth century was innocuous; it just meant “homage paid to divinity.” Then, by the 1800s, it came to describe a group that was kind of heretical, kind of unorthodox—but not necessarily evil.
The term started gaining its darker reputation toward the start of the Fourth Great Awakening. As alternative groups from Scientology to the Church of Aphrodite started popping up in the 1950s, old-school conservatives and Christians started to get spooked. They started using “cult” to describe these sort of blasphemous, unholy groups.
But the word was not necessarily in everybody’s mainstream vocabulary [until] two events occurred that put the word on the map: the Manson Family murders in 1969 and the Jonestown massacre of 1978. Once those made headlines, “cult” became [synonymous] with groups that were, by definition, dangerous, deadly, and evil.
Then, just as soon as the word became scary, it also became cool. It became associated with underground art movements and jam bands like Phish and the Grateful Dead, and we got terms like “cult following,” “cult favorite,” and “cult classic.”
Ever since then, “cult” has been used to mean [practically] anything, depending on the context. Sometimes it’s used in headlines to call attention to a violent group; sometimes it’s used as a joke; and sometimes it’s used to accuse people of holding beliefs that are different than ours. It’s one of those words that will never stop fascinating me because it is so fraught and so subjective.
Q. The book devotes an entire section to beauty and wellness. In what ways are those industries “cultish”?
A. What does a cult do? It presents a problem and a solution in the same breath. It creates a kind of conspiratorial fear and a unilateral solution helmed by a leader [who promises to] “fix you.” That is what the beauty industry does.
I worked as a beauty editor for five years, and I was horrified by the types of articles that I was assigned to write. It would be like, “Kendall Jenner’s favorite mascara is flying off shelves!” That is not an urgent, newsworthy problem—and yet you need to subconsciously prey on people’s cognitive biases and desire for salvation, solutions, beauty, and power to get clicks and eyeballs and make advertisers happy.
Consumerism is this sort of false promise that if you just click on one more Instagram targeted ad and get those sweatpants, then you will finally be whole. And that’s just a losing game.
[The wellness and beauty industries] are absolutely a cult, even if a brand doesn’t have a leader as charismatic and hands-on as Gwyneth Paltrow. God, Goop Kitchen, though. Ever had those salads? They are fire.
Q. What role does humor play in your writing?
A. I loved studying linguistics, social science, psychology, and behavioral economics in college, but they aren’t the sexiest subject matter. When you’re tackling heavy topics having to do with irrational belief, religion, and politics, injecting a joke where a reader might least expect it can disarm them. Humor is the sugar that makes the medicine go down.
Answers have been edited for length and clarity.